Shingo, the red bird kaijin, and a long overdue conversation
by Lady Perditus
Summary: Kamen Rider OOO. "Oh good," Shingo had said. "I was afraid this was going to be awkward."


**Shingo, the red bird kaijin, and a long overdue conversation**

**Summary: **"Oh good," Shingo had said. "I was afraid this was going to be awkward."

**Author's note: **Let's face it; this confrontation would be nothing short of hilarious.

**Disclaimer: **If I owned Kamen Rider Ankh would have come back by now. *flips table*

**XxX**

Eiji called Hina a few days, a grin in his voice as he was able to deliver long-awaited news. "He's back," he breathed. "I found a way to bring Ankh back." And while he was incredibly secretive, (dodging and avoiding Hina's questions of 'how' and 'where' with an eerily familiar disregard for his safety) the point remained and Hina was ecstatic.

Meanwhile, Shingo was a little nervous. He had only met Ankh once face-to-face, and it ended with him being strangled and possessed (_again_). He had talked to the Greeed quite often within his own head and knew exactly when Ankh accessed his memories to extract some obscure piece of knowledge.

That was quite a bit different from actually _meeting _him, though Shingo was never one to back down from a challenge. So he agreed to going to the 'Welcome home' party that would be held at the Cous Coussier and shoved down his uneasy feelings.

He walked through the doors of the café on a cool Thursday evening ("Not Friday," Chiyoko announced. "That'd be much too busy for Ankh-chan, and we don't want to lock out our dinner crowd.") with Hina at his side and realized he was going to be sick.

His little sister told him it was nerves—which was utterly ridiculous, if he had a say in it. He was a detective. Nerves were for rookies at the station, not a well-seasoned veteran detective such as him. When he told her just that she only smiled as though she knew something painfully obvious that he didn't.

Shingo didn't appreciate that.

And, well, the first few hours of the 'party' went well. Shingo only caught glances of Ankh but never once had to approach him, as Eiji was always hovering about the former Greeed as though he were afraid that if he took his eyes off of him he would disappear for good.

But his luck didn't hold out. Eventually Gotou dragged a tipsy Date home (claiming he wouldn't bother to care for him if he drank anymore and woke up the next morning horrible hung-over) and Hina vanished into the kitchen, taking one glance between the blonde and her brother and calling Eiji away to help her. That left Ankh and Shingo alone in the room and a heavy silence enveloped them like a thick blanket.

Ankh was staring at him with owlish eyes, scrutinizing the detective. Shingo himself eyed his mirror image up and down. The resemblance was unsettling to say the least, and while he was able to see the facial structure and identical features, Ankh wore his skin…differently. He was harsher and sharper angles, cut out of marble instead of molded from clay.

Maybe he wasn't used to having a body of his own. Shingo suddenly found himself hoping that the first thing Ankh tasted with his own senses was an ice pop. He couldn't really say that, of course, but he could happily think it—now that his thoughts were private, again.

"Oh good." Shingo found himself suddenly saying. "I was afraid this was going to be awkward."

Ankh grinned sharply, looking like a wolf in sheep's clothing. "I see Hina is happy to have you back." He tilted his head. "How long did it take to adjust, I wonder?"

Shingo ducked his head and chuckled softly. "I'm glad to be back," It wasn't quite an accusation, but almost. "And it took a while. It's a lot…quieter without you in here, though I can't say that's a complaint."

The blonde shifted in his seat, turning his attention to the kitchen door and waiting for Eiji to return. He seemed content with leaving the conversation as it was.

"Do you feel okay?"

"Fine."

"Good." Shingo gave him a long, hard look before he decided to throw caution to the wind. "You know, by the time your core medal…broke," (he had to suppress a wince) "You were pretty human."

Ankh stiffened, and didn't respond.

"But I'm glad you're okay now. And so are they."

He laughed, low and almost menacingly. "Last time we spoke I was fully prepared to destroy your vessel in pursuit of more medals."

The detective shrugged. "No you wouldn't have," He flashed a grin at him. "Besides, that's in the past now."

"What do you mean, I wouldn't have?" Ankh's eyebrow twitched in irritation and he stood up suddenly, spinning around to face him.

"You wouldn't have gone through with it," Shingo blinked. "I mean…I could hear your thoughts, and while you wanted to, you couldn't go through with it."

"Yes I would!" Ankh defended himself with a snarl, fully prepared to fight. "What would you know?!"

"We…shared a body." Shingo finished lamely. A beat passed and Ankh quietly sat down, knowing when he was defeated. He seemed to deflate, his ego having been bruised.

"We never speak of this." The ex-Greeed told him, not bothering to turn his head. The brunette slowly nodded in agreement, the humor of the situation lost on him.

"Sounds good to me."


End file.
